Monday, July 17, 2006


Beyond the reach of sneering hacks she dreams
Of momentary pleasure, simple means
To circumvent established norms and styles,
Patterns and forms dictated by the smiles
Of moneylenders, sly entrepreneurs,
Secret devotees of page three, voyeurs,
Mythmongers, opinion formers, who leer,
To whom no love may decently draw near.

Her body lacks perfection, but who cares?
She’s not the type who craves the strangers’ stares.
In the Polski Sklep, none minds her, not thin,
Fingers sticky, jam trickling down her chin.
Once tasted, doughnuts leave her wanting more.
More constant this passion. Her taste buds soar.

Back to Klimt today. I need something lighter. Don't think I can bear to watch the news!

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